


Let's Build a Place Like Here

by permanentchaos



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Canon mentions of abuse, Christmas time in Columbia, Hurt/Comfort, Just bros being bros, canon character death mention, the twinyards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:33:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/permanentchaos/pseuds/permanentchaos
Summary: Christmas is a waste of his time, of everyone's time really. Nicky's just about stubborn enough to disagree, Andrew's not quite ready to change his mind.





	Let's Build a Place Like Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/gifts).



> Merry Christmas Leah! Have the first Minyard/Hemmick Christmas on me!

Cass is still a fresh wound, an infection that twists and festers that he just can’t get rid of. It’s been years, nearly three to be exact and he hasn’t had contact with her since he allowed poison to drip from his mouth in the cuffs off an officer right before juvie. There was a pitying look in her eyes that Andrews memory allows him never to forget, the image ingrained into his brain while he scrapes blunt nails into his skin until the pain finally takes forefront over her face. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time that she had called Andrew on his shit, but he made damn sure it would be the last. 

Andrew has a new home now, one with an addict brother and a disowned cousin. They are tragic, the three of them, stood in an empty house in Columbia trying to work out how they all got to this point. Juvie, for Andrew, will have always been an experience he could never have escaped, a steep learning curve. If the world had taught him all about how cruel and detestable people were, juvie taught him how to turn that hate and despair into a monster that people feared. Yet his uncle still came for him, brother in tow, and his cousin still fought for him. 

People still _ surprise  _ Andrew, and he hates surprises. So coming back from school to this new house, to see Nicky balancing precariously on a ladder in the living room, was a sight that Andrew hadn’t expected to see. He glances over at Aaron, who offers a simple shrug back before turning his attention back to their cousin. 

“What are you doing?” Nicky jumps, the tinsel in his hand slipping out of his grasp as he desperately tries to cling onto something steady. The ladder sways dangerously, but neither twin makes a move to help. 

“...the  _ fuck _ ! When did you two get home you scared the hell outta me!” Aaron widens his arms, his only expressive way of showing, _ just now _ . Nicky rolls his eyes, huffing as he steps down and off the ladder. He’s looking at them looking behind him at the decorations littering their living space. 

“It’s Christmas soon. I just wanted to make the place a bit...more...festive.” Nicky trails off, staring at his two cousins as they stare blankly back at him. “You don’t have to-”

“Good.” Andrew doesn’t even allow Nicky to finish his sentence, just walks through the lounge not caring that he steps on any of the decorations Nicky’s left scattered on the floor. He was sure he heard someone calling his name, but by that point the door to his room is closed and securely locked. 

You see, Andrew doesn’t do Christmas, it’s a simple fact really. He’s only ever had one reasonable year and that was with Cass before her son had come home early as a surprise to them all and ruined any small celebratory mood Andrew may have been in. Juvie had treated Christmas with fake posterity, offering out cheap mince pies and crappy paper hats that broke when you tried to put them on. There were games and a movie night, but no family visiting or caring about the troubled teens locked away for the season. Andrew hadn’t minded, still doesn’t when he thinks back on those days. He has no room left inside to care about the falsity of a commemorative holiday that really only offers itself through money and presents. 

Now, in this lifetime,  he has other priorities. Which include mainly keeping Aaron clean and Nicky out of trouble. It’s not a task he revels in, though it goes without saying there’s a sense of obligation he feels toward these two idiots who are his blood and have shown the tiniest bit of decency toward him. His priorities however, do not require him to force himself to celebrate Christmas with them or anyone else for that matter. He’s not planning on buying presents or sitting around their new fire pit in the blistering cold drinking eggnog or joining them in any sort of happy holiday spirit. He’s not doing any of that shit because he is through pretending to be part of this broken image of a happy family spending time together in this hell season. Happy families do not exist and Andrew knows this all too well. He’s spent way too many years living in fractured homes trying to bluff their way through Christmas to know that the whole event just isn’t worth his time. 

He’s not sure what Aaron says to Nicky, and he’s certainly not grateful for it, but the conversation of the upcoming seasonal holiday dwindles quickly after that. Andrew supposes that this time of year is as unappealing to Aaron himself as it is to him. Tilda wasn’t alive long enough for Andrew to have spent a Christmas with and if he could ever feel gratified for something that would be it. The next few days present a tense silence which Andrew finds himself almost enjoying, that is until he and Aaron come home once more to find a huge, green monstrosity covered in blue and silver tinsel and topped with a sparkling gold star sat proudly in their lounge. 

“What the fuck?” Aaron is looking bewildered between the tree and Andrew, who himself can only glare. Honestly the thing is an eyesore and how the hell Nicky had carted it from the store back to the house will all decorations is a question Andrew thinks he may have to deem himself to ask. 

“Aaron? Andrew? Is that you?” Nicky's voice calls from upstairs and Andrew holds back from commenting at how stupid a question that is to ask. If the two of them were burglars, murderers or hell, zombies, they would not be responding to the question in kind. The thumping of footsteps echoes through the silence as Nicky appears at the bottom of the stairs, hair slightly wet and face flushed, obviously just finished with a shower. 

“What. Is that?” Aaron points at the tree, its lights flickering in rapid succession. 

“Oh! The tree? Well I was on the phone to Erik and we were talking about Christmas and yadda yadda and long story short he paid for a tree to be delivered here and I went out and got the decorations for the tree when I bought the others. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought it would be a nice surprise.” The two don’t say anything, though their expressions must say something because Nicky’s smile falters before slowly slipping away altogether. 

“Look, I know things aren’t- I’m trying here. I know things didn’t pan out how we all thought they would and...I just want us to pass this time of year not being entirely miserable.” He’s hopping awkwardly from one foot to another, a nervous gesture that isn’t lost on any of them. Andrew grinds his teeth and sets his sights on Nicky. 

“Did you send them a card?”

“Wha- who?”

“Luther and Maria?”

“Oh, well yea-”

“Why?”

“Because they’re still my parents Andrew.” Nicky speaks like he acts, fluttering bravery with no filter that lays all how he feels out in front. Andrew despises it, even more so than the predictability of Nicky still vying for his parents approval. Nicky is and will always be worth more than his shitty parents will ever care to believe, though Andrew himself will never vocalise these thoughts. Nicky is old enough to make this realisation himself, and Andrew is just petty enough not to tell him. Ever since the argument after Tildas funeral, in which Nicky sacrificed himself to his cousins for the next two years, Andrew has felt a growing affection of a cousin he never wanted. He hates that too. He’ll only allow Nicky to drag himself so far into the gutter, so Andrew will keep on pointing out the elephant in the room as bluntly as he can until his cousin finally makes the right connections and drop his dead weight parents. 

“Do you think that mattered to them when they wrote you out the will?” Nicky shutters down, arms wrapping around his waist as he opens his mouth twice in an attempt to reply. He can’t. Aaron frowns at his brother, dropping his book bag at his feet and he spins to face Andrew. 

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” 

“Then keep your mouth shut.” Turning to Nicky, Aaron sighs. “Keep the damn tree Nicky, ignore this asshole.” Nicky tries to smile, it’s fake, they all know it, but it seems to ease whatever guilt chewing at Aarons conscience. Andrew merely rolls his eyes, kicking Aarons bookbag as he walks around his brother and cousin and heads to his room. This time, there is no call after him. 

~

The eve of Christmas eve finds Andrew at the local mall. He’s left Nicky and Aaron back at the house, ignoring the questions thrown his way when he left that morning. It’s a Tuesday, but school is out for Christmas vacation and the mall is packed with bodies weaving in and out of each other. If Andrew were to ever believe in the sanctity of regret, he would certainly regret making the effort to come out today of all days. He doesn’t however, so he merely clenches his jaw and fastens his resolve and desperately tries not to shudder or care at the winding bodies rubbing against his as he moves through the crowd. 

He’s not even sure why he’s here, it certainly has nothing to do with the fact that there is a pile of presents growing under the green bush in their house and there is at least three he has spied with his name on. Two with very different cursive writing. So what if Aaron and Nicky have bought him gifts? There is nothing that says he has to return the favour. Except maybe the slight clench in his stomach everytime the thinks about them doing anything more than necessary for him. He’s not grateful, he didn’t ask for this, yet here he is. 

The Christmas Andrew spent with the Spears was the year Andrew had received the most gifts in all his cumulative years. Cass had bought Andrew books, a skateboard, a number of clothes and a whole hamper of sweets. Andrew had treated each gift as though a precious artifact. He had never received gifts like these before, not things he actually wanted, nor had someone cared enough about him to make an effort in deciding which items he would actually have liked. It was the closest things Andrew Doe had ever felt to happiness that Christmas morning when Cass and Richard sat him down and allowed him to tear slowly at the vibrant paper. 

When Andrew left he Spear household, he made sure to burn the books and smash the skateboard. 

Andrew shakes himself, his mind replaying memories like an old film reel is something he can’t escape, only try and run from. He’s got ideas in his head of what he needs to do and maybe he can allow himself the small distraction of shopping to chase away the memories of Cass no matter how temporarily. 

~

Christmas day rolls around in a rush of battered memories and the ghost of large calloused hands pinning his wrists against stained, starch white sheets. Andrews heavy breathing is the only that breaks through the silence of his room, his body shakes, fists clutching the soft material of his bed covers. 

_ He’s gone he’s gone he’s gone- _

Andrew throws off his sheets and clambers out of his bed, his room is still swathed in darkness but he knows the path to his bedroom door better than anything. He grabs the handle and gives it a shake, it remains firmly locked. He glances around the room, as though expecting to see a dark figure lurking in the shadows but the room itself is still and empty. His breath shudders and he gulps down air, there’s a slight burning in his chest and a dampness through his pyjamas that tells him that he won’t be getting anymore sleep any time soon. The red light of his alarm clocks glares, 04:54 and Andrews jaw clenches. It’s too early to really do anything but he doesn’t particularly care. He takes a one long, slow breath before unlocking his door and making his way downstairs, he needs a cigarette but Nicky refuses to let him smoke in the house and it’s fucking  _ cold _ outside. Andrew debates the pros and cons, but his body is still shaking and there’s a jittery twitch in his hands which tells him really that he has no choice. 

The press of the butt to his lips is already a relief when he lights his cigarette. He burns his way through two and chain smokes another one before the cold beats him. The bite of the chill has done more to soothe his tattered nerves than he thought it would, not enough though that he feels able to sleep. Camping out on the couch seems like a more welcoming idea, especially with a cup of hot chocolate in hand. 

It’s exactly how Nicky and Aaron find him come later morning. Legs pulled up to his chest and a steaming cup of hot chocolate balancing on his knees. The TV is on but the sound is muted and Andrew barely looks like he’s even watching, his eyes glazed and far away out the nearest window. It’s started to snow, the light flakes of winter splattering themselves along the frozen green blades of their garden. Nicky looks between the two before shooting a look across at Aaron who shrugs, clearly as surprised to see Andrew as Nicky is. 

“Andrew?” He ignores them, though whether or not he’s heard them in the first place is debatable. Aaron is the first one to move and Nicky grabs at his arm in protest, Aaron shrugs him off however and stands in front of his brother, he clicks his fingers twice. 

“Hey.” Andrew blinks, turning toward Aaron. There’s a vacant look in his eyes but he is not surprised to see Aaron stood there in nothing but a pair of loose fitting shorts and baggy t shirt. 

“What?” Aaron rolls his eyes and turns to Nicky, crossing his arms. 

“He’s fine.” Nicky laughs nervously as Andrew turns in his direction. “You okay?” Andrew raises an eyebrow and stares at him for a minute before replying. 

“What a question Nicholas.” He takes a sip at his drink and turns back to stare out the window. Aaron moves out of his personal space, stomping out to the kitchen to no doubt make a pot of coffee. Nicky stands alone, biting his lip and staring at his cousin. It’s Christmas after all, one of them has to put on a front if anything. 

“Aaron and I were thinking we’d make some breakfast and open presents, if you want?” Andrew hums and Nicky takes that for all the answer he needs. Present opening. It’s been years since he was part of something as menial. There’s an echo of repressed memories that flitter across his mind and Andrew almost begs himself to stop. 

_ Not today.  _

Andrew deals too much in living in the past that his future is now becoming nothing but a mirage. He doesn’t know when the illusion is due to break but he’ll be prepared for it when it does. This small area of peace that he’s carving out for himself with this brother and his cousin cannot last, the good things never do, but when he can hear them moving around the kitchen with the echo of laughter following them, Andrew supposes that allowing himself this one day might not be so dangerous. It’s a weak willed thought, but Andrew has never been one to assume that he’s as smart as he thinks he is. 

By the time Nicky and Aaron are done making pancakes and coffee and return back to the living room, Andrew is gone. Nicky glances up at the stairs longingly and Aaron nudges his foot with his own, motioning with his head for Nicky to come and sit down. The piles of presents under the tree is small, with Nicky working flat out to support three of them and Tildas insurance payment still pending, things haven’t exactly been easy. Still, there’s more than any of them have really been given over the last couple of years and there is a slight buzz of excitement from Nicky that is certainly infecting its way into Aaron. 

Andrews appearance not five minutes later is a surprise to both of them. He makes his presence known by throwing two neatly wrapped packages onto the couch next to each of them. He doesn’t bother to look at either of their reactions as he grabs his plate of pancakes from the counter and moves to the single loveseat across from them, tucking into his breakfast diligently. Nicky is the one who moves first, shock still written across his face and he reaches under the tree and pulls out Andrews presents, placing them carefully at by his feet. Andrew doesn’t acknowledge him but does pause in ripping his pancakes into small pieces until Nicky moves away. Nicky thinks maybe he’s finally learning to read Andrew speak as he allows himself a small smile and sits back next to Aaron. 

~

Christmas dinner is a disaster, which certainly should have been a given considering they are three men all who have never had to cook for themselves before, let alone an entire Christmas dinner. Nicky puts the turkey in late so it isn’t cooked all the way through but has burnt on the outside and Aaron attempts to help by preparing the vegetables that should have really been done last night in such a rush he slices his hand on the knife. Nicky, so frantic about Aaron's hand forgets about the rest of the meal that’s currently in the oven and that begins to burn, a soft plume of smoke filtering into the kitchen as he’s grabbing at the door to check. 

The fire alarm sounds not minutes later. 

Andrew simply sits on the counter and watches. 

There are worse things Andrew supposes, than his brother and cousin floundering around the kitchen waving dishcloths in the air to clear the smoke and shut the alarm up. There are worse places he could be, with worse people and he has been there, but he’s not anymore. It’s a past that he’ll never be able to forgive he thinks, but maybe, possibly, in some weird alternate universe where this becomes the norm of his life, he can let it go. 

The alarm stops and Aaron and Nicky let their arms drop tiredly, there’s a pause where they share a look before they both start laughing. Heavy, rambunctious laughter that sits in Andrews bones and steadies him. It’s a nice sound, though he would never have admit it. Six months ago he never thought he would ever hear what Aarons laugh sounded like, yet here he is in this medium sized three bed, with their cousin who saved them and his brother who freed them, laughing about a burnt holiday meal. If Andrew believed he still had it in him too laugh, he would. The twitch of his lips, even privately to himself, has to be enough. 

The Christmas meal cookout is forfeited as Nicky calls around to see if any of the local take out places are still open and Aaron plods around the kitchen throwing out wasted and burnt food and dumping all the dishes in the dishwasher, mindful of his bandaged hand. Andrew watches him closely, telling himself not to get attached to this weird family unit the three of them are starting to build, good things never last. 

Aaron stumbles, losing his grip on a huge pan he’s trying to balance on the crook of his arm in order to take pressure off his hand. Andrew can see it all in slow motion as he wobbles and slips and within moments he finds himself there at his brothers side. He’s grappling the back of Aarons shirt and steadying him, using his other hand to take the weight off the pan. Aaron looks up at him, eyes wide. 

“Thanks.” They share a look, brother to brother, twin to twin, and Andrew rolls his eyes and sneers as he grabs the pan out of his brothers hands and takes it to the sink himself. 

“Watch it you idiot. I don’t want to have to clean up after you when you’ve knocked yourself out and make a mess on the floor.” He words are biting, intended for a soft target, but Aarons had a little practice now and for the first time ever he’s not taking his brothers abrasiveness as a personal attack on his person. 

“Thanks Andrew.” Andrew freezes but doesn’t look at Aaron, he can’t, he won’t allow this person who shares his face to worm his way inside. They are nothing but shared DNA, nothing but people of circumstance, there is nothing binding them together but a deal and obligation but if Andrew utters a barely audible, “you’re welcome,” well, that’s between the two of them and no one else. 

~

There’s a house in Columbia, not much different from many other houses on it’s street. It’s a house that Andrew thinks he may one day call a home. It’s a house that keeps his cousin and his brother, a place they are calling safety and security. Andrew has only ever had one of those and it was ripped greedily from him when his foster parents son came home. Andrew knows there is no awaiting shadow that will enter this house, that this house belongs to the three and the three alone. Hope is something that has long drained itself from Andrew and he’s only seventeen. He’s seventeen and filled with enough hate that he feels seventy. Andrew is seventeen and has already experienced so much pain and suffering that he thinks he may never feel anything but again. Andrew is seventeen and he thinks he may have finally found a place in the world. If this is how all future Christmases are likely to go, with his addict brother and his disowned cousin, maybe, just maybe, the future won’t be so bad afterall. 

 

 

  
  



End file.
